The Hermione Chronicles
by EldarEric
Summary: It is the end of the war, and Hermione finds herself tragically in love with Harry Potter, heroically killed in the final battle with Lord Voldemort and his minions. She sets out on a quest to bring him back, and almost loses herself to the Dark.
1. A Sad Dawn

The young woman woke suddenly, still seated next to the hospital bed where her friend lay sleeping. She had not left his side, though he had been slowly recovering from the injuries he had sustained and had not awoken from his sleep-like state for the past three months. She could see his untidy mop of ginger hair as it splayed across his face while he slept, wondering when he would recover enough to be let out of his perpetual sleep.

Ron Weasley had been injured during the final siege of Lord Voldemort and his infamous supporters, the so-called Death Eaters. It was in this same battle that her other friend, Harry Potter, had given his all to save the world from the Dark Lord. Unfortunately, there was hardly time to grasp this fact before Harry's life was snuffed out while trying to protect this same young woman from a Death Eater, who launched a wild attack towards her as he gasped his final breath.

Hermione Granger, running her fingers through her bushy brown hair, could no longer shed any tears at the thought of this. She stood up from her post beside Ron's bed and began walking toward the window. The world outside was still mourning the loss of Harry Potter, once known as "The Boy Who Lived"; she was mourning the loss of one of her best friends. But she was mourning more than that, for Ron was mourning his best friend as well.

Hermione had a secret; a secret she had been hiding for quite some time. Most of her friends and schoolmates had thought she had feelings for Ron, and, for a time, she had thought so as well. However, as the events of the last few years unfolded, especially after she had known the details of the prophecy, she realized that what she had taken for as just a deep friendship with Harry was more than that. It didn't compare at all to what she had with Ron, which was far more like a brother/sister relationship. Nor could she say it was merely a sudden, impulsive thing like infatuation. No, she finally had to admit, more to herself than anyone, that she had fallen in love with Harry. The tragedy in all of this was that before his untimely death, she never got the chance to tell him the truth, nor anyone else for that matter.

It was eating at her from the inside: the guilt, the pain the anger at herself for not daring to admit the truth. She thought she was protecting him in someway, not giving the other side another weapon to use against him. She had also been afraid that the feeling would not be shared. As the events that had brought about Harry's demise had shown, nothing could have been further from the truth. For when he had dove to protect Hermione from the attack that was surely meant for her, she saw the near panic in his eyes, the utter concern for her well-being, and the relief as he had been hit that at least she would survive. She had rushed to his side, hoping against hope that his life had not been snuffed out, that he could live, and she could confess her love to him, to the world. But as she cradled his head, and looked into his eyes, he met her gaze and gasped, "I love you, Hermione. I guess I always have. I couldn't just let you die. Forgive me…." Those were the last words she heard from the most famous wizard the world had ever known.

While she may have once been called the "cleverest witch of her age," she didn't feel it. Anger welled up inside her again as she thought of the pain that Voldemort and his minions had caused: the countless deaths of innocents, the families torn apart because of the Death Eaters, the lives laid to waste all in the name of "power" or "cleansing". She had to do something about it, about the anger that had been building for the past three months. She had mulled the facts over and over in her mind, until it had become an almost constant drone. She needed to face the ones who had done this to Harry, to the wizarding and Muggle world…to her. She had to go to Azkaban, to confront the last known living Death Eater: Lucius Malfoy.

Lucius Malfoy, it seemed, had survived by a means that really surprised no-one. Since he had not gotten _directly_ involved with any of the Muggle attacks, nor had he done anything that was _specifically_ illegal; he had, however, aided, helped, and otherwise facilitated some of the most heinous crimes committed by the Death Eaters. He had always been right beside his cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange, as she had tortured and eventually murdered many, Muggle and wizard alike. And Malfoy had been seen taking great pleasure in the suffering caused by his cousin and the rest of the Death Eaters. It was on this fact alone that Lucius Malfoy was convicted and sent to Azkaban.

During his trial, he tried, once again, to claim that he had been put under the controlling influence of the Imperius Curse. That, however, was only a half-hearted claim, knowing that few would have believed him, many stating the old Muggle proverb: _Fool me once, shame __on you. Fool me twice, shame on me._

As Hermione was thinking how best to get to Azkaban, and how best to confront Lucius Malfoy, she heard Ron stirring in his bed. This represented a breakthrough for his condition. She hurried over to his bed and immediately called for the Healer on staff.

"Ron," Hermione asked tentatively. "Ron? Can you hear me?"

The Healer hurried into the room, brusquely pushing Hermione aside.

"What's happening?" she asked as the Healer quickly assessed the situation.

"He's finally coming to. Blimey, it's been a long time. We'll be better able to assess his condition now, but I must ask you to leave until we've had a chance to examine him. Shoo! Off you get…"

Hermione stood back as the healer busied herself looking Ron over. She waited anxiously to hear the results, but the healer-in-training, who had just entered the room, ushered her unceremoniously out the ward doors.

When she arrived in the hallway outside the ward, she was surprised, Molly and Arthur Weasley, Ron's parents, still waiting outside. Molly looked as if she hadn't slept for weeks, which she may well not have, and Arthur seemed several years older, and more of his pate shone as more of his fiery red hair left his head due to the stress of the past few years. Arthur was the first to notice that Hermione had left the hospital wing and turned immediately toward her and looked with a hopeful look.

"He's awake," said Hermione bluntly and saw Molly shudder as elated sobbing gripped her body.

The color flooded back into Arthur's face as a noticeable look of release filled his face, as if he had been holding his breath for the full two months Ron had been in his coma. Molly gave a great sigh of relief as the news of his awakening made it through her shocked brain. The news seemed to have been both shocking and welcome.

Molly had started to rise, apparently looking to rush into the room to see her son, when Hermione stopped her.

"The Healers are with him now, but they're not letting anyone in just yet. They've yet to examine him to see how far he's come, so they just shoved me out," she said with some hesitancy. "I don't think they'll let anyone in just yet. Perhaps it's for the best if we just remain here until they come to get us."

Molly at first looked stricken by Hermione's words, but then softly nodded her head, her eyes already red from her tears of joy. Hermione knew she couldn't comprehend the depths of longing Molly had to be feeling to have her son returned to her. And frankly, she felt it difficult to even try. A good friend had just come back, and for that she was grateful, but how could she tell Ron how things had changed?


	2. Coming to Terms

After what had seemed like hours, the Healer-In-Training slowly opened the doors to the infirmary. Hermione, Arthur, and Molly all looked up expectantly at her arrival, hopeful that they could go in to see Ron.

"The Healer has checked him out, and though he is understandably tired, she has cleared him to be seen," she said pleasantly.

All three of them stood, almost together, and slowly walked their way into the infirmary, Arthur holding Molly about the shoulders, giving her extra support as they all walked in, and Hermione trailing slightly behind them.

The Healer was still checking him out, as they all arrived at Ron's bed. His eyes were open, and he smiled weakly as his parents approached his bed.

"Mum, Dad. Is it over?" he asked, his voice barely over a whisper. "Did we win? Is Voldemort gone? Is he really gone this time?"

Arthur was the first to speak. "Yes, son, Voldemort is completely dead. He's not coming back again."

Ron smiled. "He did it, then? Harry defeated Voldemort?" he said with a hopeful, almost excited look in his eyes. Then he added quickly, "Where is he? Where's Harry?"

At these words, Molly's eyes clouded with tears, and Arthur guiltily looked away. They just couldn't bear to tell their son that his best friend was dead, saving them all. In an effort to save them, for however brief, from having to break the disastrous news to their son, Hermione stepped out from behind them, and tried her best to smile for him.

"Ron?"

"Hermione!"

The hoarsely whispered shout came out as a rattling sound of speech. "Hermione, you're alive! You survived! I thought I'd never see you again! I was so worried after I got hit—"

Hermione looked at Ron, and wondered why he had stopped talking so abruptly. Ron started looking about the ward. Apparently unable to see what he wanted to see while still laying down, he tried sitting up.

"Hold a moment there, son," the Healer said gently, but firmly. "There's no rush to be sitting up just now, not after being in a coma for just over three months…"

"Three months!" Ron said, amazed. His eyes grew wide in amazement.

"Well, it was a nasty blast you took. You got about five Stunners right to the head, you know. The Healers here thought your brains would be scrambled, but I told them how thick you skull was," she chuckled, but her laughter fell off almost as suddenly as it started.

"What's wrong," Ron asked, noticing her abrupt stop. "I know it was only a joke, I wasn't offended."

Hermione looked at Ron with tears welling in her eyes. He still didn't know what had happened. Molly and Arthur, temporarily spared the telling by Hermione's appearance, once again wore their heavy hearts upon their respective faces.

"Ron, dear..." Molly broke in, "We're.... we're so sorry... but," Molly couldn't continue. Arthur hugged his wife to himself and looked with sorrow at both his wife and son.

"Ronald, what your mother is trying so hard to tell you..."

Hermione began sobbing, she couldn't bear hearing it again. "Harry's d-d-ead, Ron!" she blurted through fresh, heavy sobs.

Ron's face lost all expression as the enormity of what he had heard tried to penetrate the mounting denial rising within his gut. _Harry? Dead? _As if swimming up out of a dream, Ron lifted his eyes to his father, "Dead? But that can't be, Dad. What do you mean dead? _Harry can't be dead!_" Ron shouted, trying desperately to deny what he had heard.

"I am so sorry, Ron. But it's true. Harry was killed."

Ron looked faint at the sound of his father's calm, but sad voice. Hermione, taking pity on her old friend, sat gently on his bed. She put her arms around him and pulled him into a tight bear hug. Ron began sobbing, as if her embrace validated everything they were saying. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley approached them and also added their hugs and tears to the mix. The four of them sat for a long time, just crying, crying for Ron and the terrible news that his friend, his best friend, was dead.

As the four separated, their faces all red from the crying, Ron looked up, all his questions still not fully answered. "How did he die?" asked Ron, a quaver in his voice.

Hermione looked up, sorry that it had to be this way, and yet wanting to explain. "Well, it happened all so quickly. The battle was won, we were all celebrating, no one was really watching the Death Eaters – we thought they were all dead – so no one noticed one of them still give a stir - no one, that is, except for Harry. Apparently, this-this – s-s-stupid Death Eater wanted to kill just one more of us, and he picked me."

Hermione had to stifle a sob. She knew she must get through this, for Ron, as well as for herself. She only had to recount this tale a handful of times, mainly to her parents and to her friends who hadn't been at Hogwarts. But this time seemed so much worse. She knew how Ron would take the news, and how he would react to the tale. But he needed this… She needed this.

"Ron, Harry just turned and ran at him, ran right at the Death Eater. And I was just sitting there, smiling, wondering what he was doing. Then I saw – saw the green flash – and – and – and Harry just died. The Death Eater croaked, VICTORY, before he, himself, died. It was horrible!"

Hermione fell into fresh sobs. The enormity of it all came rushing back in an instant. She could no longer speak, the pain stole her very breath. Ron could do nothing; he was too stunned to hear the horrible tale. Arthur and Molly were also crying, hearing the horrific tale, and reliving it once again.

Silence crept over the room. The heavy silence of grief hung in the air like a palpable thing. For a long while, no one could do a single thing and not a word was spoken. Slowly, Ron seemed to snap out of his silent stupor.

"So, he's really dead? Harry is?" he asked, as if almost frightened to believe it.

Arthur spoke first. "Yes, son, Harry Potter is… gone."

With that fact planted firmly, irrevocably, in his mind, he seemed to want to move on. "What happened next?" he asked, timidly, his voice hoarse.

Molly was the first to speak. "Well, son, the reaction was much the same as when Dumbledore died. There was grieving, but on a wider scale. Here, the boy – sorry, the man – just defeated the most powerful dark wizard in all history, and his life is so horribly yanked away from him, from us." She breathed a deep sigh. "After that, most folks just slowly went back to their lives. Even most of Harry's friends have gone on, hoping to have a somewhat normal life. But there are others – us, Hermione, the Longbottoms, and Harry's closest friends – we're all still coming to terms."

Silence fell between mother and son. Ron slowly let his head sink back onto the pillow.

"I think," Ron said, somewhat weakly, "I'd like to be alone for a while."


End file.
